The Half Life of Cat Valentine
by insomniaddict24601
Summary: The amount of time it takes for half of an unstable substance to break down, emitting harmful radiation. Based on "A Warning Sign" by Coldplay.
1. A Warning Sign

**I was studying for my chemistry test the other night and I was in an author-ish mood when I was reading the part about half-life and radioactive decay and this idea just hit me in the face. Half-life is the amount of time it takes for half of an unstable element to break down, emitting harmful radiation. Now think about that in a different way. The amount of time it takes for an unstable person to break down, inflicting harm on her friends. I know it's a stretch, but I felt the need to write it.**

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><p>Everyone knew there was something wrong with Caterina Valentine, but no one did anything.<p>

They just stood by and watched as she slowly broke down, letting her sanity leak out around her.

Everyone knew there was something wrong with her, but they acted too late.

What good does it do to lock someone up if they've already gone mad? Being closed in a cell with carpeted walls isn't going to restore her sanity. Nothing is. She's no longer Cat Valentine. She's patient #53. She's a lost cause. She doesn't know what she did. She has no idea what she caused.

She pushed him over the edge of the railing and she told the police that she just wondered what it would look like for him to fall. Just some random stranger that she shoved to his death in the Grand Canyon because Cat was curious.

Her friends were terrified of her. She was a murderer, after all. But she didn't know. She still doesn't know where she is or why she's there, or even who she is at times.

But she's not worried. She'll be out of this place soon. The halfway point's approaching and she can see it growing bigger in the distance. She doesn't know what comes after it, but she can't wait to find out.

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><p>It's not like it came out of no where, this 'murder' thing. She didn't just one day get out of bed and decide to be insane. There had always been something a little bit off about her, but no one seemed to notice. That, or they just didn't care.<p>

_**~6 months ago~**_

"No, I'm just saying that she shouldn't have done that to you." Tori argued, refering to Andre's latest girlfriend.

Andre started to protest. "Well, I did lie-", but Robbie interrupted him.

"Yeah but you lied about something that was incredibly personal. At this point in the relationship, it might be too soon to tell her the truth about that." Robbie said.

"I don't know." Andre sighed. "I feel terrible. She's really good at making me feel terrible."

"Then dump her." Jade said, as usual, saying what everyone was thinking but was too nice to say.

"But I don't want to."

"Why not?" she whined. Beck reached across and took the fork from her hand, after she yanked it out of the new puncture wound in the table.

"Because. I mean, yeah it's not the best relationhip I've been in, but it has its...perks."

"Andre, can the sex really be _that_ good?" Jade laughed, leaning back in her seat with a smirk on her face.

"Jade!" Beck scolded.

"You have no idea," Andre laughed, shaking his head "but that's not all. I mean, she lives like right down the hall from me. I can't just dump her. I have to see her face _every single day._" he moaned, slamming his head into his backpack and giving up on the cafeteria's cheeseburger.

"Oh." Tori said, returning to her lunch and ignoring the annoyed look Andre shot her across the table.

"Oh?" he asked, not trying to hide the annoyance in his tone.

"Well, yeah, what do you want me to say? You're right. You're totally stuck. My only idea is to move, but that's ridiculous since you're grandma can't even leave the apartment most days. So you're out of luck." she shrugged, stabbing a wilted lettuce leaf with her fork and groaning with disappointment when one of the prongs on her plastic fork snapped off, lost somewhere in her (probably expired) cafeteria salad. Andre scoffed at her advice.

"Wow, thanks. I feel so much better. Remind me: why did I start this conversation in the first place?"

"Beats me." Jade said, picking at her nail polish.

"Yeah, I don't know."

"Come on, I want real food. I think we have time to hit Inside-Out Burger before lunch ends." Beck suggested, resulting in cheers and a mad dash to his truck.

Cat looked up from where she was sitting. Her friends had stood up and were gathering their backpacks and lunch-trays. She didn't remember zoning out, but it didn't look like she missed too much. Just most of lunch.

A white plastic knife was clenched in her fist. She was suddenly aware of a burning sensation on her thigh. Curious, she looked down and winced. A long red line traced it's way across half of her upper thigh. Not a cut, she thought to herself, so no scar, but it still hurt. She ran her fingertip over the hot, stinging surface of the line left by the cheap plastic blade. She must have been sawing at her thigh through most of lunch.

Cat couldn't help but let out a tiny laugh before tugging her skirt down to cover the mark and then picking up her lunch-tray to join her friends.

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><p>You see, It's not like she didn't give them any warning. They just didn't receive it. At no point did any of them look down to acknowledge Cat's violent habit, nor did they question the odd stories that surfaced about her dysfunctional family and possibly insane brother. And no matter how many warning signs she put up, despite the reflective metals and flashing edges, her friends just seemed to pass them by.<p>

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><p><strong>Thanks for reading! Review please? Working on the next chapter so stay tuned.<strong>


	2. Then I Realized

**I don't own Victorious or "A Warning Sign" by Coldplay which, for those who were wondering, is where I'm stealing my chapter titles from.**

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><p>It's not that Cat wasn't communicating well enough. She left signs of her emotional deterioration everywhere she went, in plain sight. But it took time for anyone to realize that she wasn't just weird, she was disturbed. It took time for someone to realize that something was amiss, but without help, it was nearly impossible for him to know what it was. And if he didn't know, he was forced to watch her fall apart without knowing how to help. So he ignored it. As long as he could.<p>

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><p>The hallways echo every sound that's louder than a heartbeat, especially when they aren't filled with rushing students and the sound of lockers slamming.<p>

Now, with every classroom door shut, every noisy student closed inside, Robbie felt as if the soft thud and occasional squeak of his converse on the scratched linoleum were the only sounds in the universe. His footsteps echoed between his ears, a rhythmic tap tap tap squeak tap, following him down the hall and around every turn.

The art room was at the very back end of the school, conveniently shoved out of everyone's way. For a school that was supposed to focus on the arts as a whole, they paid an awful lot of attention to music and theatre, and chose to ignore the visual arts.

Despite the repression of the visual arts community, the art room itself was not to be tampered with. A floor to ceiling window, kept spotless by 30 art students with windex at the end of each class, bathed the entire room in a warm yellow light year-round. Color coded drawers were filled to the brim and beyond with scrap fabric, feathers, sequins, elastic, lace, and magazine clippings. Pyramids of paint cans and rubber cement lined the walls that had been expertly painted a smooth, pale blue color by none other than Ms. Gardner, aka. Sarah, the revered art teacher.

In other words, it was Robbie's sanctuary.

After traveling through most of the hallways as soundlessly as possible, mostly just walking on the sides of his feet, he let out a sigh of relief when he saw the double doors that concealed the art room.

He pushed the door open and was greeted with warm air and sunlight streaming in through the giant window. Cat was sitting with her back to it and the light was making her dark red hair glow around the edges like a bizarre halo. The rest of the class was busy working on creating something based on the theme of the day.

"Hey." Robbie said, walking over to where she was perched on a bar stool, intently sketching away with a stick of charcoal. She looked up at the sound of his voice and her eyes widened, as did the smile on her face. There is seriously nothing that makes you feel better than when you can tell someone is happy to see you. It's like chugging an entire mug of hot cocoa. Okay, that was a little strange. Forget I said it.

"Hi Robbie! Here. I saved you a piece of paper. Sarah passed them out but you weren't here." She handed him a thick piece of paper as he pulled a stool closer to her.

"Oh, thanks. That's really sweet of you." he said. Robbie picked up a pencil and started sketching. Long curved lines traveled around his paper, creating a foreign and abstract motion and a sense of unity, all while staying stiffly sketched on to his watercolor paper.

"What are you going to paint?" she asked, propping herself up with her elbows and leaning over to see his sheet of paper. It didn't mater though. He could have painted a stick figure and she would have regarded it as the next Mona Lisa. Robbie shrugged and put the pencil down.

"I don't know. I guess I'll figure it out as I go. What are you drawing?" he asked, peering over her shoulder.

"A cat! Get it? Because my name is Cat?" she clarified, sliding her paper across so that it was in plain sight. Robbie laughed and looked down at her drawing of a cat, but he was terrified by what was on the paper. Where the cat's face should have been was a smeared lump of black and a shade of pink that looked repulsively close to flesh. It looked as if someone had torched away the face completely, leaving behind only a charred stub.

"Wait, what happened to it's face?" he asked, turning away and blinking, trying to clear his head of the image that was burned into his mind

"What's wrong with his face?" she asked with a hint of sadness. Robbie didn't see how she couldn't know what he meant. She's lucky he had a strong stomach.

"Nothing, it's just, kind of, melted and...creepy looking." he tried to explain.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Her face held the look that told him that she didn't understand and he had completely insulted her. It was happening less and less often, but he still had no control over her strange mood swings. He back-peddaled and tried to come up with something to get her to forget.

"Nothing! It's a really nice drawing. It's just a little bit dark." Her face shifted into a grin.

"Well of course it's dark, silly. I'm using charcoal."

Robbie rolled his eyes and smiled. "You're right. What was I thinking. Hey, what's the theme today?" he asked, trying to deflect her attention to something positive.

"Dreams." she said. There was something about Cat's voice. It was weird, but Robbie could actually _hear _the smile on her face when she spoke.

"Oh, okay. Cool. I'll be right back. I'm going to get watercolors." He stood up and she turned around to face him again, sporting her trademark smile with a dimple on her left cheek.

"Ooh, can you get me some, too?" she asked, blinking her big brown eyes when they met his.

"Of course."

The supply cart was a mess and it always had at least five students flocking around it. He must have stood there for nearly half of the period, digging his way through watercolor trays and paintbrushes. When he returned, Cat had drawn the rest of her cat. Robbie didn't get a close look, but other than an unnaturally long tail that coiled up like a butterfly's tongue, there was nothing else too abnormal about it.

"What are you going to paint?" she asked, dipping her paint brush in the blue and watering it down before swirling a cloudy blue color in the corner of her paper.

"I don't know. I guess I'll figure it out as I go." he replied. He rinsed off his brush tip and reached for the black, planning to tint the white he had left.

"I like your cotton candy."

"Thanks. It's supposed to be a cloud, but I guess I could put some pink in, just for you."

Cat blushed and wiped the tip of her brush on a towel. "Aww, thanks! I had a dream like that once. Except my charcoal cat was there."

"Really?"

"Yeah. And then my brother showed up and started cutting him up. It looked really cool."

"He cut up the melty cat?" Robbie asked, not able to keep his face from reflecting his disgust.

"That's what I said, isn't it?"

"And it was 'cool'?"

"You're a terrible listener, you know?"

"Never mind." he said, turning back to his cotton candy clouds.

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><p>He realized that there was something was wrong, but there's a difference between knowing that there is a problem and knowing <em>what<em> the problem is. But that couldn't happen yet. She needed to emit more harmful radiation before it would click, but don't worry. It will click. Eventualy. But what's it going to take?

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><p><strong>Thanks for reading this! Let me know what you thought by dropping me a <strong>_review_**! The next chapter should be up within the next couple of days so stay tuned. **


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